Our Little Secret

by Rachael Stewart

  ‘Commando?’ she asks, gasping.

  I fist my erection, give it one long stroke and watch her take in the move. ‘Now I want to feel how excited you are.’

  I slip my hand beneath the arm that is still trapped across her front and feel her stomach suck in, her eyes intent on mine. There is no rejection, only desire. And, as I slip inside the tiny triangle that protects her modesty, she tilts into my touch, trying to take me deeper.

  ‘Yes, Raf, please.’

  I skim over her seam, feel her curls slick with her need, and trail back up towards her breasts.

  ‘Raf.’ She writhes, her arms pulling against the tangled red binding, her eyes pleading for me to give her what she needs, what her body needs, but I’m in no mood to hurry this.

  ‘Do you trust me, Faye?’

  She frowns up at me, her breasts lifting with her breath, each rose-pink peak straining through the bands of red, desperate, needy.

  ‘Do you?’

  Her lashes flicker and her eyes soften into mine. ‘Yes.’

  It’s a breathy whisper, so honest and raw, and it cuts deep. Idiota. I wanted her to trust me. I wanted her consent to take this further. Instead, she has given me so much more. The depth of feeling that blazes in her eyes catches in her voice.

  I shake off the sudden panic. I shake it off and focus on the heat, the need, the lust that I know I can provoke, the heights I know I’m capable of taking her to. This is just sex. Great sex. An opportunity I cannot waste. Nothing more.

  I spin her away from me and place the shower head back in its holder. I trace the bands of red down her body, my fingers grazing over her skin. I fist my hand in the straps between her shoulder blades and yank her back towards me. Her head turns, her mouth seeking out the crushing pressure of mine, and I delve my tongue in deep, feasting on her heady whimpers, her taste, her heat.

  ‘I’m going to fuck you so hard, Faye. Is that what you want?’

  Her nod is hurried, her eyes flaring wildly, her cheeks flushed with lust.

  I slide my free hand down her front beneath the small red triangle and separate her seam to feel her wetness, to feel her clit all swollen for me. I let her roll into my touch, let her take some of what she needs, some of what I need too.

  ‘You’re so wet.’

  Her hum of agreement is hitched.

  I sink inside her, feeling her pulse around my fingers, and I know how desperate she is for this.

  And what about how desperate you are? More desperate than you’ve ever been before...

  I step back and release her and she goes to turn.

  ‘No. Stay facing the wall.’

  She does exactly as I ask. Her gorgeous body is bound, her luscious round arse barely concealed beneath the triangle of red, her shoulders shuddering with every breath she takes. I throw my shirt aside, uncaring of the phone still tucked inside, and shuck the rest of my clothes until I’m naked and so fucking hard I fear I’ll come before her. And then I remember...condom.

  I take one out of the discreet container in the vanity unit and tear it open, my eyes feasting on her bound and waiting as I sheath myself, my teeth gritted against the sensation that feels more teasing than it should thanks to my heightened state.

  ‘I want you.’ I come up behind her, my mouth to her ear. ‘So badly.’

  I nip at her lobe and she whimpers, her arse wriggling back, seeking out my hardness.

  ‘I want you more than I’ve ever wanted another soul.’

  The words are out before I stop them. But they are the truth; this is true. And I don’t want to suppress it. I can be honest in sex.

  I hook my fingers into the band of her bottoms and roll them down her thighs, bending my knees as I lower myself down her body, my tongue following the same teasing trail.

  ‘Step out,’ I say as my fingers brush her ankles, her teasing anklet, and strip the fabric from her feet. I toss it away and take my time as I rise back up her body.

  ‘Step wider.’

  She shuffles her feet apart, so obedient, so fucking hot.

  I reach for the shower head once more and bring it over her front as I lower my mouth to her ear.

  ‘I’m going to make you come with this.’

  She goes to turn and stops, remembering my command as she turns her head instead.

  I raise the shower head, my grin loaded. ‘Another first?’

  She doesn’t have to answer me. I know. I can read it in her face. I take hold of the bands between her shoulder blades again and turn, encouraging us to rotate so she’s facing the glass wall of the shower and the mirror beyond.

  ‘See how sexy you are?’

  Her mouth is slack with desire, her colour high, her eyes shying away from the image she presents.

  ‘Look, cara, see you as I see you...’

  She focuses, her eyes sweeping over her length before connecting with mine through the mirror. ‘Do you see?’

  She wets her lips, nods.

  ‘You are exquisite.’

  Her lashes flutter as she takes in my words.

  ‘You are not boring. Your ex was a fool. You deserve to be worshipped, adored...’

  Loved. I want to say loved. It’s there, choking up my throat, and I force it down as I trail the jets over her front, smooth my hand over her curls and slip inside her folds. I spread her open to our gaze, to the jets that I send lower, lower still, until she rocks back against me, her cry trapped in her throat, her body pulsating against mine...

  ‘What the...? Oh, my fucking God! Raf... Raf!’ I feel her pull against her bindings. Her body shudders as the water works over her clit, unrelenting, incessant, and she’s stiffening up head to toe.

  ‘That’s it, cara, let go.’

  She’s whimpering, her body lifting on her toes, pressing back against me. Her breaths turn jagged, fast, and then she bucks, crying out so hard with her climax. It’s all I can do to hold myself steady, to stop myself from losing my all with my cock pressed tight between our bodies, my eyes feasting on the carnal sight before me in the mirror. It’s rippling through her with such force and I drink it all in, transfixed, the lustful haze fogging up my brain and making me want to drive myself deep inside her.

  I ease the water away and palm her with my free hand as I hold her sated body against me and return the shower head to its holder.

  ‘I’m so hard for you.’ My voice is thick with it.

  ‘Then take me, Raf...’ She holds my gaze in the mirror. ‘Now. Fuck me hard.’

  Cazzo. I grit my teeth against the intense wave of pleasure that runs through my body. It’s like she’s had an awakening. I see the determination in her face, the lust, the carnal wants taking over and merging with mine.

  I hiss in a breath and roughly grasp her bikini top, tugging her back for a tongue-sinking kiss.

  ‘Now lean forward,’ I rasp out. She edges forward, too tentative as she tries to keep her balance with her arms all bound. ‘More.’

  I pull on the binding to show her with the action that I’ve got her. ‘More.’

  Her arse nudges me back as she does as I ask, bending until I stop her with my grip on her bonds. I grip my cock and shift my body lower until I meet with her tight, wet heat, and in one thrust I bury myself inside her. My growl is drowned out by her cry, her pleasure ringing through the room, through me. I grip the binding tighter, riding her deeper, harder, just as she demanded.

  Our eyes lock in the mirror. Her breasts strain against the binding that tightens with my grip, her entire body rocking with every thrust, her skin pink with her orgasm. It’s too much, all too much. My thrusts turn jagged. The sensation, her surrender, my power over her that feels as if it’s really her power over me...

  And suddenly I’m coming, so fucking hard my cry is guttural, my body shaken to the core. So shaken I can’t dwell on it and I overr
ide it with more. More passion, more lust. As the pleasure tries to relax my limbs, I tug her back and pull out as I turn her, forcing her back up against the wall. I drop to my knees, my mouth on her pussy, my tongue flicking at her clit, and she’s moaning, her head falling forward to look me in the eye, her body trembling, her legs quaking.

  ‘Raf... Raf... I can’t, not so soon.’

  Want to bet?

  She’s panting above me and I see what she isn’t even aware of yet: her climax building. I chuckle low in my throat as I keep tasting her. I can never get enough. I can’t. I blame the abstinence, the forced avoidance over the last forty-eight hours. It makes every sensation more acute now, the taste of her, the feel of her, the sound of her.

  Carnal, salacious, wanton.

  And then she’s bucking off the wall, her cry intense as I hold her steady and let her orgasm take over. She’s so perfect and she has no idea. I stay there until she calms, stay until I think I can look her in the eye and act as if all is okay.

  I press a kiss to her curls, her stomach, between her breasts. I reach her lips and cup her face.

  ‘Now I will release you.’ I smile into her eyes, fighting the surge of warmth that seems to swell around my heart.

  ‘That was...’ She laughs softly. ‘There are no words.’

  I grin, praying it masks the strength of feeling I can’t get a grip on. ‘Glad I can be of service. As for this...’ I eye the bikini top. ‘I have no idea how to get this off, not in one piece.’

  ‘I’ve already torn it somewhere.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘So, you could just tear it off me.’

  I try to laugh with her, but inside my gut is rolling, my heart is racing and I’m losing it, my trusty control. I grip the fabric in my hands and tear it apart, feeling a similar sensation deep inside. It takes away my ability to breathe, to think. I focus on peeling the top from her body and see the red lines marring her skin the more I unwrap. My gut rolls anew.

  ‘Did I hurt you?’

  ‘No!’ she rushes out, her hands palming my chest, her eyes earnest, so earnest. ‘Are you crazy? That has to be up there with one of the best experiences of my life!’

  Her compliment should make me happy. It should provoke my ego or spur a cocky response. Instead I trace the lines with my fingers. ‘Are you sure?’

  She laughs softly, her hands lifting to my hair. ‘Do I look hurt?’

  I swallow and force my eyes to hers. One second passes, two. There’s so much I want to say, so much I can’t, so much I don’t understand.

  ‘No.’

  Not yet, adds my inner conscience, and Dani’s words are quick on their tail: You will break her heart. You won’t mean to, but...

  I swallow again and step out of her hold. ‘We should get out of here before we’re both missed.’

  I see the disappointment in her gaze, I feel it deep inside, and I want to kill it off. I want to fork my fingers through her hair, back her up against the shower wall and kiss her until we’re high on sex again.

  ‘You’re right.’ She grins, but too widely. ‘I’m late enough to the party as it is.’

  I turn away to sort myself out and the crumpled red fabric catches my eye. ‘Do you have another swimsuit? If not, I can—’

  ‘I’m fine. I have another.’

  ‘Not...’ I remember the pool. ‘Not the black number?’

  ‘Is that a problem?’ She pulls the shower head off its rest and starts to rinse between her legs. Her intention is innocent enough but it burns through me. Right along with the memory of her in that swimsuit.

  Cazzo. ‘No, no problem.’

  She lifts her gaze to me, her eyes sparkling now. ‘Good. You want to come and get clean?’

  I swallow, toss the condom in the bin and walk towards her.

  But as I join her and our eyes meet, Dani’s words come back ever louder: I know this can only ever be a bit of fun for you but for her... She wants it all, Raf. She’ll fall for you and then what?

  Then what? exactly...

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Danielle and Tyler’s Wedding Week

  Saturday: The Wedding. Five-thirty p.m.

  I TAKE HOLD of Dani’s hands and give them a squeeze. ‘You ready?’

  She gives a rapid nod and I feel her nerves through her trembling fingers.

  ‘Just breathe,’ I say.

  Her emotions have been running high ever since I entered her room this morning armed with a bustling team of hair and make-up artists ready to make us look the part. I’ve never seen her less than a hundred percent confident, but today there’s a nervous edge to her and she actually does appear more blushing bride than the usual strutting diva.

  ‘Good.’ I beam at her encouragingly. ‘It’s going to be fine.’

  ‘Uh-huh! I’m so glad you’re with me, Faye.’

  ‘Where else would I be when my BFF is getting married?’

  She takes a shaky breath that’s interrupted by a knock on the door. Her eyes dart to it and I give her fingers another squeeze before releasing them.

  ‘Here we go.’

  I head to the bedroom door, preparing myself now, because I know who’s on the other side and I haven’t seen him since the yacht, which was over thirty-six hours ago. He, Dante, Tyler and Harry took themselves off to the private villa just beyond the pool area yesterday morning, in keeping with the tradition of separating the bride and groom the night before the wedding. But the distance hasn’t helped how I feel about him, it hasn’t stopped my heart which seems determined to care.

  The problem is, I know who he is. I know he’s a sworn bachelor running from love, but I saw the way he looked at me on the yacht, I heard the words laced with so much meaning, and it didn’t feel like pure lust, it felt like more. So much more. And even when we were at our best, Bobby never made me feel like that. Not once.

  But, as I pause before the door, I remember that this is Dani’s day. This is about her heart, her love, her life. Not mine. I take hold of the door handle and take a deep breath, my eyes going back to Dani, and I give her an encouraging smile. She is stunning. Her dress is sheer and formfitting, flowers trailing over the nude under layer in such a way as to blend fabric into skin. It’s tasteful, elegant, and still sexy. Her hair is tied back in a loose chignon that replicates mine, with the same baby’s breath, and the addition of blush-coloured roses that match the shade of my fishtail dress. She looks angelic and sinful in one.

  ‘Okay?’ I say.

  She nods, takes up her bouquet and clutches it in front of her.

  I pull open the door and turn to face him. I’m ready for this.

  ‘Hi.’ It comes out as heady as I feel. Prepared? As if!

  I’ve missed him. Oh, how I’ve missed him. And that look... His eyes smoulder and burn, his throat bobs and he raises his hand to his tie, adjusting it, though he doesn’t need to.

  ‘Buongiorno, Faye.’

  It’s a deep murmur that has my insides quivering. I touch a hand to my hair again and he smiles. It’s dazzling in its intensity, breath-taking in its sincerity. ‘You look...you look exquisite.’

  He pockets his hands and I wonder whether he wants to reach for me as much as I do him. Is he remembering the last time he said those words to me on the yacht, in the mirror...?

  ‘As do you.’

  And truly he does. His hair is swept back high off his face, his facial hair groomed, enhancing his bold cheekbones and the cut to his jaw. The deep blue shade of his suit brings out the bronze of his skin, the molten chocolate of his eyes, and makes him appear every bit the successful and intimidating billionaire, though I know him to be so much more.

  ‘Grazie.’

  It’s gruff, raw, and for the first time I see a smudge of black beneath his eyes and lines I don’t remember being so obvious before. I open my mouth to ask i
f he’s okay before remembering that now isn’t the time.

  ‘Nothing beats your little sister, though.’ I hurry out, stepping back to let him enter.

  He walks in, his eyes leaving me to find Dani. His smile stills and his eyes shine. ‘Wow, sorellina.’

  ‘Is that a good wow?’ she asks tentatively. ‘Or a what were you thinking wow?’

  ‘Sei troppo bella.’ He pauses before her and shakes his head, clears his throat. ‘I only wish our father were here to see you.’

  ‘Don’t, Raf.’ She sniffs and stiffens her spine. ‘You mustn’t make me cry, not now.’

  He pulls her into a hug that’s awkward due to the bouquet and the dress. ‘No tears.’

  But his own voice is laced with them and I don’t need to see his face to know he’s suffering too. My own eyes spike and it’s me clearing my throat now.

  ‘Right, out of here,’ I bluster, ‘before we all end up a blubbering mess and draw attention for entirely the wrong reason.’

  Dani blows out a shuddery breath and rolls her shoulders back. ‘Right, ready.’

  ‘Ready?’ I ask, looking pointedly at Rafael and ignoring the way my heart pulses at the emotion in his truly magnificent face. A face I can never imagine being immune to.

  ‘Born ready.’ He offers his sister his arm, his face so full of his love for her, and my eyes well up again.

  ‘Me too,’ Dani murmurs.

  They make the most glorious picture and words fail me. I see the same effect on the staff as we make our way downstairs. I catch the wedding planner dabbing at the corners of her eyes as we make our way outside and pause just out of view of the guests.

  I’m to go first and, as I leave them, I clutch my bouquet tighter and mouth, ‘Good luck.’

  My eyes flit from Dani to Rafael and my breath catches. He’s not looking at Dani now; he’s looking at me. He’s looking at me with such emotion, adoration...love?

  No, don’t get fanciful. Don’t go there again. Enjoy today. Enjoy the wedding and what time you have left.

  ‘Okay, Faye, the musicians are ready.’

  I drag my eyes from his to the wedding planner and hear the string quartet begin Pachelbel’s Canon. ‘Here goes...’